


fairies in the bathroom.

by turnaboutcafe



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Drunken Flirting, Drunken Kissing, Drunken Shenanigans, Fluff, M/M, and iwaizumi prays the price whoops, basically oikawa can't do alcohol at all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:27:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23572345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turnaboutcafe/pseuds/turnaboutcafe
Summary: "Iwa-chan, there's a fairy in the bathroom!"Iwaizumi’s night was supposed to be relaxing.Then Oikawa Tooru stumbled through his door, completely drunk.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 5
Kudos: 99





	fairies in the bathroom.

**Author's Note:**

> a short one-shot inspired by the time my brother, the literal vice captain of the entire student body and the captain of our renowned debate team, came home drunk and got mad at me when i didn't believe there was a fairy in the toilet.
> 
> yeah, that happened.

Iwaizumi’s night was supposed to be relaxing.

Then Oikawa Tooru stumbled through his door, completely drunk.

His gelled hair hung limply on his head, chocolate locks devoid of their usual style, ruffled and messy. His cheeks tinted pink, pale skin glowing slightly under the glaring light of their apartment lights, completely contrasting to his light complexion. The top button of Oikawa’s tucked in button up was undone, some of his pale collar bone peeking through. A large smile was plastered on his face as he walked unstably inside their shared apartment, steps jumbled. Despite all this, he still had the same stupid smile on his face, just like the one he wore when Seijoh scored a point, or when Iwaizumi agreed to try his horrendous cooking.

“You’re so drunk,” Iwaizumi muttered, moving his laptop from his lap onto the coffee table, walking towards his room mate. “How much did you have today?”

Oikawa’s hand rested on their dining table, trying to right himself as he kicked his shoes off of his feet. The scent of alcohol and outdoor smoke radiated from him slightly, wearing off as the scent diffused into the air. His eyes were disconcentrated, face amiable and amused as he looked at Iwaizumi.

“I’m not drunk,” Oikawa insisted, giggling as he said so. “I didn’t drink much. I can hold my alcohol. I can beat you in a drinking contest!”

“Oikawa, you’re drunk.”

“No,” Oikawa retorted, clinging onto Iwaizumi’s waist. “I’m not drunk.”

Oikawa’s head nestled on Iwaizumi’s shoulder, still hugging him tightly. Iwaizumi pushed him off, feeling his heart beat faster.

“I bet you can’t even walk in a straight line without falling down,” Iwaizumi scoffed.

“I bet I can,” Oikawa mumbled. His breath smelled like sake.

Before Iwaizumi could protest, Oikawa started walking, placing one foot in front of the other, wobbling like he was on a tightrope, body swaying as he put his hands up in the air, trying to keep his balance. He put another foot in front of the other, body still moving in all directions as he tried to right himself. In ten seconds, he’d moved only two steps, but the look on his face was still confident and smug as he turned to look at Iwaizumi, arrogance written all over his drunken face.

“See?” Oikawa smiled smugly. “I can—”

As Oikawa took another step forward, he tumbled towards the ground. Reflexes fast from the years of volleyball, Iwaizumi immediately caught him by the arms, Oikawa’s body hovering right above the ground. Using all the strength he could muster, Iwaizumi dragged Oikawa back to a standing position, his friend not helping in the slightest. Sighing, Iwaizumi gently led the still smiling Oikawa to the sofa, handing him the glass of water he’d taken for himself from the coffee table. Oikawa took it, raising it gingerly to his lips as he drank. His Adam's apple moved as he did, gulping down the entire glass of ice water like it was the last drink on earth, moving his lips away from the glass with a satisfied sigh.

“You need to get cleaned up,” Iwaizumi insisted, gently pushing Oikawa off the sofa. “I trust that you can get yourself showered without falling and dying in the shower?”

Oikawa hugged Iwaizumi’s arm, masculine scent overwhelming him. “Shower with me, Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi pulled his hand away, averting his face to hide the heat on his face, scoffing at his friend. “No way, Trashykawa. Go shower on your own.”

Making a sound of displeasure, Oikawa stood up from the sofa, sluggishly making his way to the bathroom with unstable steps. Iwaizumi’s eyes followed Oikawa until he entered the bathroom, unfaithful that his best friend would make it all the way to the bathroom without falling. Once he’d entered, Iwaizumi rested himself back on the sofa, massaging his temples. Even since highschool, Oikawa was always overly affectionate when he was drunk, always holding Iwaizumi and clinging onto him.

Despite his outward aversions, he couldn’t help but think back to Oikawa clinging onto his arm.

But quickly, Iwaizumi’s thoughts were interrupted by a scream from Oikawa.

Oikawa came rushing out, more buttons on his shirt undone, complaints escaping his lips as he exited the toilet, round eyes half lidded from exhaustion. He muttered something incomprehensible, pointing at the toilet with worry written on his face. Iwaizumi looked up from the computer resting on his lap, turning to look at his friend.

“What?” Iwaizumi asked, trying to catch what Oikawa was saying. “What are you saying?”

“Iwa-chan, there’s a fairy in the toilet.”

At that moment, Iwaizumi could feel the last of his brain cells escape him.

“There is no fairy in the shower,” Iwaizumi grumbled, focusing on his screen again. “Captain of the volleyball team, top in your class yet you think that there’s a fairy in the toilet.”

“There is a fairy in the toilet!” Oikawa insisted, voice raising as he pouted, pulling on his arm. “Iwa-chan, there’s a fairy in the toilet!”

Iwaizumi sighed. “Oikawa, I’ve used that bathroom at least a million times. There is no fairy in the toilet.”

“Iwa-chan, you’re not listening to me!” Oikawa complained. “There’s a fairy in the toilet. I don’t want to shower.”

“Oikawa you have to—”

“Iwa-chan!”

Iwaizumi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He didn’t know what he did in his past life to deserve such a fate. “Fine. You don’t have to shower.”

Immediately, Oikawa’s face relaxed, returning to a smile instead of the indignant expression he had on earlier. As Iwaizumi sat back on the couch with his computer on his lap to continue his essay, Oikawa settled in next to him, hugging his arm again. As Iwaizumi read the article on his laptop screen, he couldn’t help but feel conscious of the man hugging his arm, breath fanning his face as he tried to concentrate on his screen.

Oikawa’s gaze was calm as he looked onto the screen, eyes still half lidded, slightly covering his brown orbs. Iwaizumi could feel something churning in his stomach as Oikawa’s masculine scent continued to surround him, a perfect mix of cologne and Oikawa’s natural, intoxicating smell. He tried not to avert his eyes as Oikawa snuggled closer and closer to his arm, soft brown hair slightly brushing against his cheek as his friend rested his head on Iwaizumi’s shoulder, as he always did when they were kids. 

Even if Oikawa said nothing, he could make Iwaizumi feel everything.

Iwaizumi faltered, tilting his head slightly to look at his best friend, his head still resting on Iwaizumi’s shoulder. Oikawa’s eyes were looking at Iwaizumi’s screen, quickly sobering up as the lights of the bluish screen entered his eyes. His cheeks were still tinged pink from the alcohol, but it had gone down. Oikawa’s face was completely concentrated on the screen. Iwaizumi was completely concentrated on Oikawa.

He couldn’t help but think he was attractive.

“Are you not reading, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa asked, turning to look at Iwaizumi. Their faces were only centimetres apart.

From this close, Iwaizumi could see everything. He could see the angle of Oikawa’s perfect nose, tall and flawless against his milky skin, a deep contrast to his dark chocolate hair. His eyes were perfectly round, cheeks slightly red. Oikawa’s jawline curved at a flawless, God given angle, cheekbones high on his face. Iwaizumi’s eyes trailed down, unable to keep his eyes off of Oikawa. His shirt was still partially unbuttoned, showing the skin under.

And his lips were perfectly red.

Before Iwaizumi could think, his lips were on Oikawa’s, soft and gentle. Oikawa didn’t resist. His lips were soft, feeling just like Iwaizumi expected. Iwaizumi could taste the alcohol on Oikawa’s lips, still tainted on it. Oikawa’s eyes slid close, moving against Iwaizumi’s lips. Iwaizumi couldn’t describe it, the palpitations of his heart as Oikawa pulled them closer, Iwaizumi nibbling slightly on his bottom lip. Iwaizumi couldn’t describe anything. Iwaizumi couldn’t describe bliss.

And as they pulled apart, the sinking feeling of a stone dropping in his stomach overcame him.

Oikawa’s face was flushed, a darker pink than he was before. His chest heaved slightly as he took in deep breaths, lips red and more swollen than it was before. Oikawa’s eyes were now fully open, not half lidded like they were before. Oikawa’s brown eyes were filled with something. Something Iwaizumi had never seen in them.

And before Oikawa could say anything, Iwaizumi ran, and shut the door of his bedroom behind him.

Sinking into the mattress, Iwaizumi took deep breaths, trying to calm his hammering heart to no avail. He laid down on the sheets, shutting his eyes as he tried to push what had just happened out of his mind. But it only made it worse. The taste of alcohol found its way into his mouth again, the soft lips moving against him the only thing he could feel. Forcing his eyes open again, Iwaizumi threw himself onto the bed, pulling the covers up over himself, gripping them hard. Dread began sinking in his stomach, burying his face in his hands as his mind raced, all the possibilities of the next morning rushing through his head. What if Oikawa remembered? What if he moved out the next day? What if—

_It’s okay,_ Iwaizumi tried to convince himself. _Oikawa doesn’t remember anything when he’s drunk. I’m fine. He doesn’t remember anything…_

And as he repeated it to himself, he found himself falling into a restless sleep.

* * *

When Iwaizumi woke up, he could feel something pressed against his body.

Or more accurately, someone.

In the dark, Iwaizumi could barely make out Oikawa’s shape. He was a lump, hugging Iwaizumi’s waist close, head snuggled into the crook of Iwaizumi’s neck, breathing gently. His dark hair grazed against Iwaizumi’s face, the familiar scent of shampoo finding its way around him. His long eyelashes fluttered slightly as he slept, incoherent mumbles coming from his lips as he shifted under the sheets. Iwaizumi continued looking at his best friend’s face, eyes trailing down it. The soft skin full of clarity. His dark hair was tousled and comfortable.

Without even realizing what he was doing, Iwaizumi found his fingers tangled in Oikawa’s hair, brushing through it slowly as Oikawa snored softly, hugging Iwaizumi closer. It was as soft as Iwaizumi remembered, comfortable against his touch, thick and full between his fingers. It was the perfect shade of chocolate Iwaizumi could never forget, like it was dyed by an expensive salon even if Oikawa had had the same hair since they were three. Iwaizumi could feel himself chuckle as he remembered how Oikawa used to brag about his hair to him until he cried, and the look on Oikawa’s face when tears began rolling down his cheeks. As he cried, Oikawa was close to tears, frantically trying to reassure him that his hair was just fine as well. 

_It was a simple time,_ Iwaizumi reflected. _Much easier than whatever it is now._

As Oikawa hugged him closer, Iwaizumi prayed he couldn’t feel his racing heart. 

Slowly, Iwaizumi’s fingers began to trace Oikawa’s sharp jawline, fingers moving slowly against it. It was perfectly sharp, chiseled. Oikawa’s chest, pressed against him, was lean and muscular, still completely fit from the hours of volleyball practice he put in every day. His nose was beautiful, tall and impeccable, curving slightly at the tip. As Iwaizumi’s eyes trailed down, he couldn’t help but notice it again.

Oikawa’s soft lips.

Iwaizumi’s fingers found themselves touching it, the pad of his finger tracing over the pink lips. It was still slightly swollen, still as red as it was before. The taste of alcohol came back to Iwaizumi’s tongue, lingering. 

Iwaizumi could feel his heart beating faster again.

He was fucked.

* * *

When Iwaizumi stirred awake, he found no one beside him. Pushing the thoughts of the night out of his head, Iwaizumi stumbled out of the room, rubbing at his eyes groggily as he adjusted to the glaring light streaming in from the window. Oikawa was humming to himself in the kitchen, sound travelling throughout their small shared apartment. It was a happy tune, one that Oikawa always sang when he was having a good morning, or when he was making a good breakfast. Iwaizumi wondered what the occasion was.

“Morning,” Oikawa greeted in a sing-song voice as Iwaizumi entered the kitchen. Oikawa was at the kitchen island picking at a piece of milk bread, intensely staring at the bread filled toaster. His hair was ruffled and messy, unlike his usually styled hair. His cheeks were patchy, eyes sleepy as he massaged his temples slightly. Iwaizumi grimaced internally. He probably had a splitting hangover.

“Morning,” Iwaizumi replied. “You were so drunk last night.”

Oikawa grinned sheepishly. “Must have been. The team won a big game a few days back, so the captain took us all out drinking.”

“You _know_ you can’t drink alcohol without nearly passing out,” Iwaizumi muttered. “Why do you still bother?”

“I’m not that lightweight!” Oikawa protested, taking a piece of bread out of the toaster as it dinged. “I can handle a few shots, thank you very much.”

“Tell that to me the next time you come stumbling into our apartment.”

Oikawa muttered something incomprehensible, abandoning his milk bread to chop up an avocado on a cutting board. Iwaizumi took a mug from the cupboard, heart hammering as he stood next to Oikawa to pour hot water in the cup, letting a tea bag sink into it. The tea began steeping, the sounds of the avocado being chopped flowing through the air, neither of them sharing a word. The smell of tea rose in the air, filling the room. Iwaizumi wondered how much Oikawa remembered.

Iwaizumi prayed that Oikawa remembered nothing.

“Did I do anything weird when I was drunk?” Oikawa asked, turning to look at Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi prayed that his exhaustion disguised the heat on his face.

“No.”

“Are you sure?” Oikawa pressed, looking at Iwaizumi with narrowed eyes. “I did absolutely _nothing_ weird?”

“You’re always doing weird things. Does that count?”

“Iwa-chan!”

Iwaizumi ducked, narrowly avoiding the avocado pit hurled at him. 

“I’m being serious,” Oikawa complained, placing the avocado on the toasted bread. “I did nothing weird?”

“No.”

“So nothing like this then?”

Before Iwaizumi could protest, Oikawa’s hands trapped him against the counter, and their lips met. It was nothing like before, not the gentle, alcohol induced one from the previous night. Iwaizumi wanted to push him back, uncertainty hammering in his heart as it continued. But even so, he found no strength in his arms to push Oikawa back, as if his whole being complied with everything Oikawa wanted it to do. His knees trembled, all the energy and strength in them dissipated. 

Their lips parted and Oikawa leaned close into Iwaizumi’s ear, smugness radiating in his voice. “Nothing weird at all. I’m not that lightweight, Iwaizumi.”

“Y-You weren’t drunk?” Iwaizumi demanded. “That was all—”

“Even drunk me doesn’t see fairies in the bathroom,” Oikawa laughed, clutching his sides as he looked at Iwaizumi’s face. “I thought you would know that I wasn’t _that_ lightweight.”

Iwaizumi gaped at Oikawa, no words coming out of his mouth, his stomach churning.

“Iwa-chan?”

“I’m so going to kill you.”

“Iwa-chan!”

Before he could do anything, Oikawa was out of the kitchen, door slammed behind him. Iwaizumi sighed, picking up an apple from the counter, holding in his hand like a grenade as he opened the door.

He was so going to kill that idiot.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed this! it wasn't very long because i literally outlined, wrote and edited this whole thing in just under three hours, but i hope you still like it.
> 
> feedback is appreciated <3
> 
> — turnabout cafe


End file.
